Persecution. Twenty-Six

The world moved in slow motion around him and he nearly felt like he was out of his own body, frantically reaching for a person he didn't even remember. A plethora of thoughts ran through his head and among them was wondering if he should let it go. Let this fragment of memory slip through his fingers and pretend it was never there.

It almost worked with Alma.

Right?

His body was too tired between his struggling; the two men holding him with more force than any normal man could stand and the seals that felt like they were turning his blood into lead inside his veins and arteries. Even the sound of his body desperately pulling air into his lungs felt weak and slow. All he could do was submit and he slacked against the strong hold of the larger CROW man. He needed to let it slip away, but he knew he couldn't. His mind wasn't going to stop falling back on it and his eyes never left the long stretch of corridor.

The screaming and loud sounds of glass shattering and walls being cracked still filtered up the hall. He'd missed the silver blur, but it hadn't gone so far that it was out of reach…if he could get free, that is. That alone was torturing and making it harder to just let go. Did they want them not to see each other so badly that it had come to this?

"….N….DA!"

Real time slipped back at a snail's pace, but the harsh sounds echoing up the hall pulled him by force. The sounds he'd heard before. The same hollow scream that seemed vaguely laced with the desperation that filled him with every second he remained captive—held back from a truth that he needed. What had they done to deserve this? What was it that has happened, that had been so horrible to bring it down to this?

The brands on his body told him only what the Church wanted him to know—only the messages they stood behind, but he couldn't trust them feeling like this. If he had committed crimes worthy of the painful knife wrenching into his heart, then why did every part of him scream like it was so very wrong.

Movement at the end of the hall, followed by a CROW body being thrown several feet across the intersected pathway, drew his focus. It snapped him out of a deaf haze and he clamored to get a full—clear shot of the one who was forcing his way back through the collection of CROW that were ordered to make sure he didn't come back this way.

It was obvious that they weren't quick enough for the silver blur—draped with a white fluffed cape and a mask glistening just under his chin from where it dropped clear from his face. His left arm was warped into polished black claws at the end and it was clear that those claws were capable of collateral damage—explaining the marks in the hall. The figure dashing in his direction was screaming—sounds dropping from his mouth in pitched howls that sunk to his core.

The movement of this figure was just so beyond the abilities of the men who had tried to subdue him. This man simply outclassed the group of them and the gleam of his Innocence over his body showed just how much determination he had to return back down the hall—running directly at him. Eyes connected directly with his.

And all he could do was stare; watching the figure tear up the corridor with urgency—as if his very sense of life depended on making it to his location. During the process, Kanda could only watch—detached and confused—eyes clouding over because he just…

…Could not place that face in his memory.

He thought…he thought if he saw him, that he could try and piece something together…but…It was blank, empty. Cold. So cold—like he was being blockaded by a wall that only let the barest of reflections from the other side through.

"KANDA!"

The desperate tenor lacing through the younger man's voice rang so clear in his ears now, but there was nothing there to trigger the response he nearly begged himself to have. All he knew was the longing somewhere in him for this person was suffocating and the world blurred around him as he slacked against the larger man again. This person knew his name. This person knew him. But…he knew nothing in return.

"Kanda…." His voice was clearer, closer...he slowed, stopping just out of arms reach—everything in Kanda wanted to reach out. Even as the stranger was immediately dogpiled by three other CROW men who were trying—and failing—to pull the silver haired man away from him. "You're…alive…You're…" The voice hitched and Kanda could hear the force of a sob being held back harder than the men who had barely restrained him.

Something snapped inside Kanda and it opened a whole flood gate of feelings that he was suddenly drowning in. There was a sense of relief in there somewhere, but he really didn't know why and what it was directed at; but looking up through his hazed vision, blinking liquid drops down his face, he opened his mouth and said the only thing his brain could even allow him.

"…I'm sorry. I…I know I love you… But I…"

He couldn't even breathe anymore, looking into a confused face—marked by a red curse. The look on that face made his chest constrict harder and he nearly dropped his head before he could speak the rest of it.

"…I…don't remember who you are."

To Be Continued...

A/N: No breaks. I'm never done hurting you people with this.